


A Typical Sunday

by Justcannibalthings



Series: Parent!Redwine [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dogs, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH HOMOSEXUALITY, family fic, fluff with a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 18:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10418097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justcannibalthings/pseuds/Justcannibalthings
Summary: Bryn, Derek & the rabble go to the park.





	

“Winston! Chill the fuck out, it’s only a walk!” Winston replied with a healthy bark, swapping between his left and right paws excitedly as I crouched down to click on his lead. I gave his floppy ears a fuss, watching them flip to each side and giving a little chuckle at his panting face. Bryn states that I shouldn’t swear in front of the kids. I stood myself back upright, and turn my head to watch Bryn- who was currently zipping up Calvera’s coat. Echo was stood patiently, thank fucking God. Eventually though, I hear Bryn let out a small sigh of victory as he stands back up, taking Calvera’s hand and nodding at me in a gesture to open the door. I smirk at him, and oblige. 

Calvera is resting on my shoulders, and Bryn has Winston’s lead in one hand, and Echos hand in the other. Mostly because Bryn is an old fucking man and Calvera has a distinct inability to talk and walk at the same time, so I had hoisted her into a piggy back to stop the need for having to halt every three seconds so she could make a comment. Now, I am sure that we look like quite a picture right now- but I honestly don’t care, I just feel very whole. Content. I have two magnificent children, one of whom is wearing exclusively grey and white, while the other is in about 6 different colours with socks that don’t match and a jumper with a space pun on it (I brought it, it’s fantastic) I have to admit it does look like one of our kids got dressed in prison and the other in the dark…what was I thinking about again? Oh yes, feeling whole. I have a husband and honestly not just any husband either, Bryn. The man who gives me a tired look when he glasses fog up in the winter, and who cannot for the life of him make good pasta, but I’m not going to tell him that, Bryn is just absolutely perfect in every conceivable way, even his perceived flaws just make him better. It’s cute that he tries to organise the collection of clutter and photographs scattered about the house. You’ll never win Bryn. The shit always wins. Besides, it’s nice to have a home I can call my own, this is really the first time I’ve had any semblance of space that’s free for me to do with as I please, even if I do have to fight about the colour of the bedsheets. The toys, and photographs of kids, and Picasso rivalling artwork that litters the house (and the layer of dog hair Bryn is constantly fighting against) just makes me feel so incredibly happy and grateful. Bryn could have anyone in the world, but he chose to create this mismatched family with me.  


 

I watched Bryn unclip Winston’s lead as I dropped Calvera gently onto the ground. Echo was stood expectedly beside me and I blinked at him, holding my hands out in a ‘what?’ gesture, and asking him “What’s up kiddo?”. Echo looked at me with his inquisitively open eyes and stated “Command. Throw”. Oh, right. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a tennis ball, holding it out to him. Echo took it and thanked me, a simplistic thanks but it was still good progress, before walking off to play fetch with Winston. I have no idea what he finds so entertaining about it but Winston enjoys it too, and there’s really no harm in him playing fetch for hours on end. Calvera has taken Bryn into the play area, which is pretty decent if I’m honest- climbing frame (shaped like a rocket, much to Bryn and Calvera’s amusement), swings, slide and a seesaw. I reach into my other pocket, removing the box of cigarettes, and a lighter- which I had of course stolen from Bryn, placing one between my lips and lighting it up before returning everything to my pocket. I walked over to the playground fence, leaning on the pealing metal (I think it was yellow at some point) and exhaled, glancing between the scene of Bryn pushing a very excited Calvera on a swing, and Echos great amusement at Winston’s comprehension of the game fetch. He almost seems surprised that he brings the ball back. I took my phone out, holding it up and twisting it into portrait mode, taking a few photos of the individual scenes, before sliding my phone back into my pocket and making my way over to Echo. I can still hear Calvera’s elated screeches, and Bryns content laughter at her joy.

 

Echo was stood loyally waiting for Winston to return with the ball for the thousandth time when I reached him, I twisted my head to exhale the cigarette smoke- I’d made a note of the winds direction so it didn’t blow towards Echo, although with the height difference it wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. I dropped the stub of the cigarette onto the floor, stubbing it out with my foot and crouching down so I could talk to Echo, he seemed to respond better this way. “Hey, lil dude you want to play in the park with Calvera and Daddy? I can look after Winston.” Echo looked at me for a moment, and I turned my head, pointing in the general direction of the play area. Echo shook his head at me. “Command. Throw.” Was his response. I nodded at him, gentle nudging is really the only way to get him to talk, you have to ask him pretty specific questions. He’s getting there though, he recognises a couple of emotions, and he asks for things at least. “you want to walk round with me then? I think Winston would like it if you came.” Echo nodded again, before speaking- surprisingly enough. “Unit.” I blinked at him, no idea what the fuck that means kid- the only unit I know is not child friendly. It is Bryn friendly though. I returned my focus to Echo, confused obviously etched onto my face because he pointed at Bryn and Calvera and repeated himself. “Unit.” Oh…OH. Well, if that isn’t the cutest thing in the universe I do not know what fucking is. “You want us to go together?” Echo nodded, more sure this time as I imagine it must be quite frustrating to get your point across when you think you’re a computer. “BRYN! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Bryn glanced over at me briefly, and gave me a confused look, which I could just about make out from the distance, and he turned his head, holding the metal chains of the swing and bringing it to a slow halt.  


 

Bryn joined us shortly, Calvera following behind- although she was stopping every so often to babble excitedly about…Jupiter I think? “Derek, please refrain from swearing in front of them.” He stated. “I didn’t!” I reply, since, well, I didn’t. “Butt would be more appropriate.” Right…I give him an unconvinced hum, lifting up Calvera- who had by this point caught up- onto my shoulders. Honestly, this was just a lot easier than constantly waiting for her to catch up, and she found great amusement in being ‘as tall as a giant’, I told her to reach up and touch the stars once but she had responded with ‘Papi the nearest star is 4.24 lightyears away I can’t touch it’ and I decided that being corrected by a 12-year-old wasn’t something I enjoyed very much. Echo seemed to prefer to be on his own two legs, he didn’t respond very well to being picked up unless it got him closer to sparkling lights. Echo had walked ahead so he could be closer to Winston, and left me and Bryn to listen to Calvera’s unending string of consciousness. It’s weird how much I seem to retain from her babbling, I mean I always listen to her, because she always sounds so excited and she’s my child so of course I listen to her, but my mind is now full of the ramblings of a 12-year-old. Bryn probably knows a lot of it already, since she’s basically talking about what he teaches for a living. Poor Bryn, can’t even get a break from work with his own kids. We make a natural circle around the park, and as we approach the exit Bryn gets out the lead from his pocket, whistling to summon Winston over. Echo returns as well, and I let out a little snort at the idea of Echo returning at the sound of whistling.

The walk home is pretty uneventful, and is filled with Bryn and Calvera talking about space, and Echo holding Bryns hand when we cross the street. We did, of course get a few stares, which is completely normal when you look like us- as Bryn is constantly saying ‘It is not because we’re gay Derek.’ But I disagree. It doesn’t matter though, I will fight anybody that wants to speak ill of Bryn, or my children. Bryn Unlocks the door, unclipping Winston’s lead shortly after- he’s a pretty obedient dog and he isn’t interested in much but water and a comfy sofa after going out anyway. I lower Calvera off of my shoulders, and follow my beloved family inside, kicking the door closed behind me and leaning on it as I pulled off my boots. Bryn was doing the same, although he was leaning against the wall. Echo and Calvera had both sat down on the ground. With jackets, shoes and scarves removed Bryn sat himself down on the sofa, Winston on one side and Calvera on the other- Calvera had a book in her hand and I suspect she wanted Bryn to read to her, while Echo sat on the floor, watching the colourful flashing of a cartoon. I made my own way into the kitchen, letting my hand ghost along the (imported) marble worktop which was mercifully higher than the standard counter. When Bryn had asked how much it would cost when we moved in I told him it didn’t matter and that it wasn’t extortionate. He has continuously asked but I hadn’t budged because if Bryn knew what I had paid for this kitchen he would be putting a pen and divorce papers onto my beautiful, beautiful worktop. I poured out a glass of apple juice and one of water, and opened the (always stocked) Darth Vader cookie jar that Bryn had called me a child for buying, lifting out a couple of my lovingly created almond cookies. They were sugar free, for obvious reasons, and I opened the cupboard above my head, removing a plate to put them on before gathering my items to take into the kids. Echo especially needs to be fed and watered regularly, he forgets he’s a person so I tend to keep an eye on his hydration levels. I make my way into the living room and put the items onto the island counter, looking up to tell them that they can have a cookie while I make dinner, but I can’t bear to break up the picture of Bryn reading to Calvera and Echo- who had now joined them on the sofa, so I opt to sit down wordlessly beside Echo, and put an arm around the back of the sofa to drop my hand onto Bryns shoulder. Dinner can probably wait.

Dinner was delicious because I made it. I’ve been making pasta a lot lately in the hopes that Bryn will learn how pasta that isn’t overworked tastes. He tries. As much as I fucking hate vegetables in their raw format, I have adjusted surprisingly quickly to making Calvera separate meals- her lunches are certainly fun to make, mostly because I will admit to getting carried away and attempting to make everything space themed. I am stuck in my own mind as I mentally plan out the week’s lunches, and debate whether to make the pancake mix for breakfast now or later (Bacon for me, fruit for everyone else) When I feel Bryns presence near me. “You know, it’s only fair that I wash up, you do all the cooking” He states, surprisingly close-I didn’t even hear him come into the room. I turn my head and glance at him, putting my hands on the rim of the sink and pausing my washing “You can make it up to me later.” I hummed, dropping my forehead against his- Bryn took the hint and pressed his head forward to close the gap between our lips. I resist the urge to press Bryn against the counter and blow him in the kitchen, and let him pull away from me, taking a moment to let my mind refocus. Bryn has used this opportunity to subtly lead me away from the sink, and puts his own hands in the water before beginning to wash up. Cheeky cunt, “That’s not fair, now you don’t owe me anything, I was hoping to get laid.” Bryn gave me his ‘Why did I marry such a horny cunt’ look and continued to wash up. The kids usual go upstairs after dinner, rotating themselves between bathing and playing (although Bryn goes up to check on them, and run each of their baths- occasionally throwing a space themed bath bomb in for Calvera.) so, the parenting is more or less done for the evening. I take the opportunity to remove a beer, and one of those individual bottles of wine from the fridge, pouring the wine into a glass without a word and dropping the empty bottle it into the recycling. I put the glass down on the counter beside Bryn, and click open the beer with a satisfying hiss, Bryn regularly takes the piss out of me for not drinking, but I have an addictive personality and it’s hard enough resisting something that isn’t legal for me to do. I leant against the counter, watching Bryn wash up and taking a swig from the can before speaking, “You know Echo called us a Unit today.” I commented, mostly because I felt an incredible serge of pride at Echos view of us and I wanted Bryn to share in the feeling. Bryns hands stopped moving as soon as I said it, and he looked up at me, I returned his gaze with a hint of curiosity- I don’t know how to clarify my statement further. I’m about to ask him why he’s looking at me when I realise his eyes have welled up. Shit shit shit what did I do? Is it the anniversary of something? Oh god did I forget Echos birthday? Bryn blink at me, and a small smile sits on his lips and I realise they’re happy tears. I return his smile, lifting my weight from the counter and wrapping my arm around his waist. “We are a unit, aren’t we? I mean we go on fucking family days out to the park, put a skirt and a blonde wig on you and we’re a proper little nuclear household” I stated, I had initially intended to be romantic, or make a joke involving the word unit but I seem to have an inability to be serious. Besides, Bryn in a skirt is…a disturbing image but it would provide easy access to my favourite part of the male anatomy. Not my favourite part of Bryn though- just to clarify I didn’t marry Bryn because he’s good in bed. He is though…my god he just knows what to do, when to do it and…oh right- crying. I placed a little kiss on Bryns forehead, and Bryn let out a little chuckle at my comment, “Is that another one of your kinks, Derek?” He quipped, “No, I quite like my husband to look like my husband, not my wife.” I retorted, pausing for a moment and just enjoying the proximity to Bryn. As much as I love Echo and Calvera I do sometimes miss the easy to find Bryn moments- Calvera makes a noise if we kiss, and Bryn isn’t a big fan of PDA. I wasn’t, but I want the world to know he is unavailable and that often requires a wandering hand. It’s important to be Bryn and Derek sometimes- not just Dad and Papi. “They both view us as their parents- I was concerned Echo didn’t have that attachment but…” Bryn started, and I nodded against his head; I had shared his concerns as well, I don’t think Echo is always aware that he’s even a human, so for him to see us as a unit- a collective, was a big deal. Our moment of solitude is interrupted by a voice calling from somewhere upstairs- Bryn gives me a little smile and I give him an exaggerated sigh and a smirk, dropping my can onto the counter after releasing him and turning to go toward the voice of my daughter.

With Echo tucked into bed- a bottle of water at his bedside in case he needed a drink during the night, I made my way into Calvera’s room- Bryn had been washing up and taking Winston out for a final piss, and just generally cleaning up the crap that two kids and a pet leave on a daily basis, which left me on bedtime duty. I sat down on the floor beside Calvera’s bed, opening the book she had selected and beginning to read- “The Witching Hour. Sophie couldn’t sleep. A brilliant moonbeam was slanting through a gap in the curtains. It was shining right on to her pillow. The other children in the dormitory had been asleep for hours” I began, waving my hand to represent a moon beam, and smiling at Calvera’s contented face, as she had already begun to drift. “Sophie closed her eyes and lay quite still. She tried very hard to doze off. It was no good. The moonbeam was like a silver blade slicing through the room on to her face. The house was absolutely silent. No voices came up from downstairs. There were no footsteps on the floor above either.” I continued on in a similar fashion, keeping my voice steady and waving my hand where necessary and putting emphasis in all the right places. Around page 6 I glanced at Calvera and realised she was in fact, fast asleep. I leant over her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and running a hand through her messy hair- I wish she’d let me deal with that. I stood up gently and placed the book on her bedside table, flicking off her lamp. The room of course, was not plunged into darkness, as myself and Bryn had spent a few hours covering the ceiling with glow in the dark stars. I can still remember her face when she first saw them in the night. I creeped out the room, closing the door gently behind myself, before making my way to the bathroom. 

I slumped onto the sofa beside Bryn, who had brought my can into the living room and was currently sat- pyjama clad with a book in his hand, and the lamp on beside him- half empty wine glass glowing in its light. I lifted the can and draped an arm around him as I took a sip, balancing the can between my thighs to lift up the TV remote. Bryn looked at me, seeming surprised for a moment, and glanced back at his book before closing it, and placing it on the coffee table. I looked at him with a raised brow, and he asked me “where is your shirt Derek?” “The wash.” I replied. Bryn blinked at me and shook his head with a little smile, before drinking the rest of his wine. “Piss head” I stated, as I watched him finish the glass. “You were in the shower for an hour Derek, it’s half ten, and we both have work tomorrow.” I was an hour because I have a lot of body to shave, Bryn, I’m Italian do you honestly think I’m naturally this hairless? “Oh. You head up then, I’m just gonna say goodnight to Winston and finish this.” I stated, lifting the can in support of my statement. Bryn stood up, taking his book with him and disappearing upstairs. I stood up, walking over to Winston as I sipped from the can and buried my head in his fur. “Goodnight big W” I said- Winston answered by licking my face and I gave a little chuckle, standing back up and moving into the kitchen to check Bryn had put everything back. I knew he had, but I had to make sure- the kitchen is my baby after all. I leant on the counter to finish the can when an abrupt clap of thunder rung through my ears. I felt my breath hitch, and tries to force oxygen into my lungs with little success. I closed my eyes and balled my hands into fists, continuing to try to force myself to breath. I couldn’t feel anything but cold air, the taste of vomit and copper resting uncomfortably in my mouth, I forced myself to open my eyes and looked down at my hands, the familiar stain of crimson resting on them- damn and warm in my palm. I swallowed, still unable to breath in any real capacity, and looked up, feeling myself lurch at the image of the girl. She was so small. So, so small. I felt my vision blur as tears welled in my eyes- I couldn’t wipe them away, not with blood stained hands. I felt a hand pull me towards them then, and the smell of trees dissipated, replaced by the fresh scents of watermelon and honey. I closed my eyes, pushing myself into the smell and forcing myself to continue to breath. 

With the windows and curtains firmly closed and drawn, and Bryns arm around me- my head resting on his chest and my breath finally beginning to level out, Bryn began to run a hand through my hair. If anyone asked, I would deny to my dying breath the extend of which I had curled myself up against Bryn, and if anyone asks, I have no issue with rain, because I am a grown ass fucking man and it’s a pathetic thing to be afraid of. But, Bryn doesn’t ask. He just knows. He has his own issues with sleep, but having me beside him seemed to at least ease it. It makes me feel pretty fucking useless that I have once again been placed in the position of the damsel in distress, but here I am. It is nice to have his hand in my hair though, I can see why Winston likes this so much. Bryns hand slows, and I can feel my own mind drifting, feeling far too comfortable, and have eaten far too much pasta to have the energy to fight sleep.


End file.
